


Make Me Feel Something. Anything!

by HeavenScent



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bonding, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Other, Papa Stilinkski Feels, Pre-Relationship, Video & Computer Games
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-09
Updated: 2016-05-09
Packaged: 2018-06-07 07:16:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6792913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeavenScent/pseuds/HeavenScent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles does not want to feel right now. He is determinedly not feeling. Derek tries to help with that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Make Me Feel Something. Anything!

The look on Derek's face was most amusing. "What are you doing?" His tone was kinda funny too.

Stiles grinned and lolled his head over the arm of the sofa to look at Derek upside-down. "Oh, you know, just trying to have a good time." He pushed further so his back was arched over the arm of the chair, his palms planted on the floor. He closed his eyes in bliss. "Seriously dude, you need to try this. Fuck, that's good."

He hummed and stretched just a little bit too far. Stiles yelped as his head dropped towards the floor, but his rapid descent was halted by hands under his shoulders. He sighed in relief and let the hands take his weight. "Thanks man."

Derek sighed and easily lifted the teen back to a more usual position. "How much have you had to drink?"

Stiles closed one eye and squinted at him with the other. "You mean today? Or this week? And are we talking about water or alcohol? Coz I'm always very well hydrated, you'll be happy to hear; try to keep a water bottle in the car in case someone gets thirsty, or I need to, like, clean a wound, or get blood off my hands before Dad can‒" Stiles cut himself off and took a deep breath before grinning back at Derek. "So! What brings you here?"

Derek narrowed his eyes. "Scott asked me to check up on you. He said you weren't answering your phone."

Stiles dropped his head back on the couch. "Yeah. I can't handle his puppy eyes right now."

"…you can't handle his puppy eyes over the phone?"

"Have you ever been on the receiving end of those eyes? Even over the phone? They're irresistible, I swear! He has, like, a super power…you know, other than being a supernatural creature of the night."

Derek looked bemused. "You really don't think before you speak, do you?"

Stiles shrugged. "Not really. It's worked for me so far." He pushed himself around so his legs were hanging over the arm of the sofa, towards Derek, and his head was resting on the sofa cushion.

The wolf walked around him and sat on the edge of the coffee table. "Why can't you handle Scott right now?"

"Because he'll ask me how I'm doing and want me to talk about my feelings. That's not something I'm doing right now. Right now, I am doing anything but feel. Hence the stretching." He pointed his legs and clenched his ass until his body was a perfect curve from shoulders to calves. He only held the pose for a second or two before relaxing back into the cushions. "You have a really comfy sofa. I could totally sleep on this."

Derek just looked at him. "Do you want to?"

Stiles squinted. "Want to what?"

"Sleep on it."

"Oh, I won't be sleeping. Not for a good long time. No sleep for Stiles." He grinned at Derek. "Wanna bet how long I'll last before I collapse? Or someone stages an intervention?"

"Not really." Derek tilted his head in consideration.

Stiles chuckled. "You look like a puppy when you do that."

Derek didn't reply, just kept looking at him.

Stiles' eyebrows shot up in surprise. "No threats? I just called you a puppy, and not even a frown. Are you alright? Are you a clone? Have you been taken over by an alien? Do I need to call a packmember to check‒"

"Have you cried yet?"

Stiles' face closed off. "I don't want to talk about it." His voice was flat, no emotion: it was terrifying.

Then he brightened with a fake grin. "Wanna verse me in Mario? I bet I could flog your ass."

Even fake happiness was better than that blank stare, so Derek seriously considered it; figured it couldn't hurt. "Sure."

Stiles was surprised again, but better at hiding it. "For reals? Great, let's do it!"

He didn't give Derek time to change his mind as he dove into the cupboards under the TV and pulled out all the gear. He set everything up in record time and was soon ensconced on the sofa, beating Derek at every game. The wolf wasn't terrible, but he was no match for the Stilinski Master.

Sometime during the eight, ninth, tenth round, Stiles arose from videogame-stasis for long enough to notice that he and Derek were pressed together from hip to ankle. No wonder he wasn't cold, despite the rain outside. He considered calling attention to it, but decided he liked the companionship ‒ attention may compel Derek to move away, so he left it alone and renewed his concentration on the game. He still managed to beat Derek, despite his brief distraction.

They played together all night, well into the early hours of the morning, and as the dawn light poured in through the loft's windows, Stiles felt slightly better.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a complete story - I may add to it later, maybe not, but this is it for now. Hope you liked it!


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